


you need something to justify your soul

by zimniy_soldat



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6897910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimniy_soldat/pseuds/zimniy_soldat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Champagne is poured on the Soldier like libations to the cause.</i>
</p><p>in which Brock is not a bad guy and Bucky gets the help he deserves</p>
            </blockquote>





	you need something to justify your soul

**Author's Note:**

> warning for implied rape and for abuse/violence. this is technically Hydra Trash Party content but sorta not really
> 
> i told myself "if you can't find the fic you want to read, write it yourself" so that is what i did. i just wanted some dang hydra husbands saving the winter soldier
> 
> this is just a drabbley one-shot so i'm probably not gonna continue it or anything. enjoy, my trashbabies (is this even htp if it has a happy ending??)

Brock likes to think he’s an okay guy. He tries to be respectful where he can, and somewhat reasonable where he cannot. But this.. This is something that has been going on for far too long. 

He’s heard the rumors, the whispers in passing about how the Winter Soldier was subdued and how he was treated. Brock had always ignored them, brushed them off as the sort of baseless gossip usually passed around a circle of knitting old women. It wasn’t until Alexander Pierce invited him to one of HYDRA’s “parties”, where the higher-ups gathered to drink themselves sloppy and yell about order and chaos and murder (or, that’s what Rumlow _thought_ happened), that Brock saw the morbid reality.

Showing up with a bowl of salsa-cheese dip was as unnecessary as a silent movie with subtitles, but HYDRA doesn’t exactly send memos out to everyone. Thankfully, he didn’t come over- or under-dressed. The mansion is full of men, women, people in suits, gowns, tuxes. In the center of the huge sitting room is the Asset, head hung low and arms restrained behind his back. Heated gazes and rude jeers are tossed at the man like he’s nothing more than an object, a _thing_.

Champagne is poured on the Soldier like libations to the cause.

It takes very little for the partygoers to begin whipping, kicking, beating the Soldier. It takes everything in Brock to keep his hands busy, to avoid throwing punches. He’s worked with the Asset before, has seen the beautifully brutal way he fights. Rumlow wants to beg him to _fight, damn it, don’t just sit there!_

An hour passes and the Soldier is a bloody mess. Brock hopes it doesn’t get any worse. It does.

At Pierce’s permission, women and men alike approach the Asset, some with their zippers undone and some with stun batons or dildos. Brock cringes, sets his face stone-cold. Pierce bends down to whisper in the Soldier’s ear, then moves to sit in the armchair behind him. The Soldier slowly lifts his head to stare directly at Rumlow. Those blue-green eyes hold emotions that Brock didn’t even know the Soldier had. He does not scream, he does not struggle. He just cries silently, eyes locked on Brock’s.

He watches with professional detachment. His heart is screaming, clawing at his ribcage to save the Soldier, to put a stop to this horrific display of violence and dehumanization.

“Want to take a turn, Brock?” Pierce’s voice makes bile rise in Brock’s throat.

“Hell no, I don’t want your sloppy seconds.” _I want to rip your throat out with my teeth._

“This is its reward, for being so obedient and helpful.” Pierce pets the Soldier’s hair. He’s crying again, looks like he wants to push into the soft touch, but can’t. Rumlow downs his whiskey and turns to the bar so he doesn’t have to see the tears spilling over the muzzle.

After hours of grinding his teeth and setting his jaw, Brock has to make his exit. He can’t risk anything, not without them coming after him. Pierce bids him farewell while carving the HYDRA image into the Soldier’s freshly-healed chest. His tires leave deep gouges in the gravel of the driveway.

Brock holds himself together for the duration of the drive home, but the moment he opens his bedroom door to Jack reading in bed, Brock breaks. He sobs and sobs, tears soak through his partner’s shirt as Jack holds him. He rubs Rumlow’s back until he calms down. Brock tells Jack everything he saw. Jack throws his book so hard it puts a hole in the wall. The lights are turned off, but they cannot sleep. Brock shakes with quiet sobs. Jack cleans his pistol eight times.

This is not the last time it happens.

Brock Rumlow is just as guilty as the rest of them, complacently allowing it to happen while turning away.

Brock Rumlow is just as disgusting as those sadistic rapists, and he’s done letting them get away with it.

Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins become targets of HYDRA, SHIELD, and Steve Rogers for their actions. Brock and Jack become wary guardians of a certain damaged Soldier. They razed that mansion to the ground, tore up the bank vault, shot as many agents as Brock could recall were there.

The Soldier is given as much as they can offer, as much as they can afford while being hunted down. He cries in his sleep, forgets where he is, and fights Rollins when the man tries to hold him after a nightmare. But, he’s healing. He’s safe.

_The Soldier is safe._

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to, go check out my [tumblr](http://ace-bucky.tumblr.com/) so you can listen to me crying about bucky barnes


End file.
